


Dénouement

by Redrikki



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Canon Character of Color, Clones, F/M, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Native American Character(s), Past Abuse, Time Travel, Unconventional Families
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-06-26
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:25:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrikki/pseuds/Redrikki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dénouement - (1) End of the falling action to the actual ending of the narrative<br/>(2) Catharsis and a release of tension</p><p>The war is done and it's time for them to find home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tye Longshadow

Once the dust clears, the Justice League offers them all a place on the Team. Virgil is the only one to take them up on it. He looks like a complete tool in his Static get-up, but whatever. Half of what makes superheros so badass is the way they totally own their ridiculous outfits. Virgil’s the kind of guy who would have been a cop or an EMT even without the superpowers. The League is the perfect place for him.

Ed is giving it another go with his dad. The guy is completely obsessed with his research and kind of jerk, but he isn’t Maurice, not by a long shot. Besides, they love each other. Maybe that will help.

Sam is headed back to Japan and the grandmother she’d run away from home to live with in the first place. At least, that’s what Tye thinks she said. He speaks Mescalero, English and Spanish, but he really needs to learn Japanese if he wants to Skype with her.

And Tye? He’s not quite up for playing hero and he’s way past done being universe's punching bag. Two weeks after helping to save the planet, Tye walks into his Grandpa’s trailer. “You have finished your vision quest,” Grandpa says without surprise, pulling out a second glass.

“Is that what that was?” Tye asks, accepting a glass of ice water. He had thought it was an abduction with some experimentation and alien invasion thrown in. 

“Of course,” says Grandpa. Tye waits patiently as the old man drinks deeply. “You have discovered the truth about your self.”

“What truth?”

Grandpa smiles. “That you are larger on the inside,” he says, his voice filled with pride.

Tye’s stomach drops and he takes a long gulp of his water to settle his nerves. Grandpa’s little nuggets of wisdom and metaphor often come off like some medicine man cliche, but he’s usually right. He’s always right. Tye’s metagene allows him to astral project. What does Grandpa’s metagene let him do? “How did you know?”

“I saw you on television,” Grandpa confesses. “But it has always been inside you,” he adds, clasping Tye’s shoulder. His hand is warm and slightly damp from the condensation on his glass, but comforting. Grandpa has always seen greatness in him, even when no one else did. “Will you be going home? Maurice can’t hurt you now.”

“I could hurt _him_.” Tye could pay back every putdown, every bruise. He’s a freaking superhero now: he could show Maurice just who’s the boss and who’s the worthless punk. Except, Tye’s a superhero now, one with a standing invite to the Justice League, and he’s pretty sure that’s not what they’re about. “I could, but I wont.” He takes a long drink of his water and watches Grandpa top off his own glass. “Can I stay here for a while?”

Grandpa nods. “Stay as long as you like. We have much to talk about.” 

Together, they drink. The water is cool and refreshing.


	2. Karen Beecher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They've been dating since high school, it's time to grow up.

“Aw, man,” Gar groans as Mal’s kart races past his to cross the finish line.

“It gets easier once you learn how to drive,” Karen assures him as she takes his controller. Now that the semester is over and aliens aren’t trying to destroy the world, she and Mal are trying to spend more time together. Problem is, a Mario Kart tournament in the team’s crummy wear-home isn’t exactly what she had in mind. Sure, the company’s great, but the place smells like an unappealing mix of moldy socks, unwashed dishes and undefinable man-funk.

The race starts and Mal immediately takes the lead. Karen wonders why she lied to Gar: playing Mal is no easier with a driver’s license. This calls for trickier tactics. “Mal, how long have we been together?”

“Ah...,” Mal frowns in concentration, far more focused on the game than the question. “Since high school. Why?”

Right, high school. They’d had dates just like this back then too. They’d done pizza and a movie or hung out with friends at the Happy Harbor Bowl-A-Rama. Sure, it had been fun, but sometimes a girl wants something more. “We’re not kids any more. It’s time to grow up.”

“What?” Mal turns to look at her, his kart swerving badly. Karen quickly presses her advantage. “What are you saying, beautiful?”

What is she saying? She loves this man. In a few months Raquel is going to marry a guy she’s know for less time than the two of them had been dating. Mal had been chasing Karen since she was a little girl in afro-puffs. It’s time she turned around and caught him. 

“I’m saying we should move in together.”

Mal jerks around to stare at her. He barely registers the game as his kart misses the turn entirely and slams into the retaining wall in a spectacular CGI fireball. “Yes,” Karen crows as she swings her kart Tokyo drift style past the flaming wreck and coasts past the finish line.

“Karen,” Mal sets down his controller and takes her hands, “Are you serious?”

“Well, I didn’t just say it to win the game,” Karen laughs. Maybe it had started that way, but this feels right. “Malcolm Duncan,” she says, gazing up into his hopeful brown eyes, “You are the sweetest, hottest, bravest and most supportive boyfriend a girl could ask for. Will you move in with me?”

“Beautiful, I thought you’d never ask.” Mal pulls her into a kiss she feels down to her bones. 

“Aw,” Gar sighs. “That’s so romantic.” He’s perched cat-like on the back of the couch, a dreamy expression on his face and his tail waving languidly. 

Karen looks askance at their audience. “You can start tonight,” Karen whispers. She can feel Mal’s answering smile against her lips.


	3. Roy(s) Harper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can't always get what you want, but sometimes you get what you need.

Roy stares at the face in front of him. It is sort of squishy with dark, almond-shaped eyes and a fringe of auburn hair. Roy thinks it has his nose, but it’s sort of hard to tell with all the babyish pudge. 

The baby studies him just as intently before reaching out to grab his nose. “Dadas,” she coos. 

Roy swallows hard. He’s sixteen (or twenty-four) and he’s in no way equipped to be a father. “Am I your dada?”

“You’re her uncle. I’m her dada,” says the other Roy without looking up from where he’s sorting arrows at the other end of the couch. They’re scattered all over the coffee table. He’s marked them all just below the fletching so he can tell the trick arrows apart by touch. Olly taught Roy that trick and it sort of breaks his brain that the other Roy remembers that lesson too. “You’re too young to be a father.”

“ _You’re_ too young to be a father,” Roy mutters under his breath. The clone may look like he’s older, but he’s only eight. He shouldn’t have a kid. He shouldn’t even be alive. 

The daughter that should be Roy’s stands on his lap and rubs her hands back and forth across the red stubble of his hair. “Dadas,” she laughs. Roy tries to gently swat her hands away, feeling like a cat being petted against the grain. The other Roy’s face softens though, like this assault on his hair and dignity is just the most precious thing. 

“Aw, you’re bonding,” Jade says from the doorway, a bag of Chinese take-out danging from her hand. She saunters into the room and bounds easily over the coffee table. Everything about her is graceful and predatory. Roy has a vague memory of her in a dark gi and cat mask, but she still looks like a ninja in her jeans and t-shirt. She knocks all the arrows to the floor with a casual sweep of her arm and sets the bag down. 

“Oh, come on,” groans the other Roy. “I just got those sorted.”

“Oops.” Jade shrugs carelessly and flops down between them on the couch. She roots through the bag until she finds the container she’s looking for. She gives it to the other Roy along with a pair of chopsticks and a lingering kiss. “Am I forgiven?” She purrs. 

Roy licks his lips and shifts uncomfortably under the squirming weight of the baby. “What do I have to do to get some of that?”

Jade shoots him a smile that has a whole lot of snarl underneath it. She trades her daughter for a container pulled at random from the bag. “Kung-pow chicken. Knock yourself out.”

It’s low mein. At the other end of the couch, his clone is feeding his wife a piece of beef while she wrangles the baby on her lap. Jealousy hits like a fist to his solar plexus. That was supposed to be his life. He was supposed to be the one with the hot, scary wife and the cute kid. He was supposed to have his real arm and eight years worth of memories. Roy puts down his low mein. He was supposed to have kung-pow chicken.

“Food okay?” Other Roy asks with a frown. “Want something else?” He’d give Roy whatever he wanted, just like he like he had lent him money when he was on the run with the Star Labs kids and let him crash here while he got himself sorted. It was amazing how generous guilt made some people. 

“I want what’s mine.”

The clone sucks in a breath and looks away as the barb strikes home. His pain and guilt isn’t anywhere near as satisfying as Roy needs right now. It’s like kicking a puppy when Roy wants to blow something up. 

“You both need to get over yourselves,” Jade snaps. “I knew who and what Red was when we met. He may be a clone, but I married _him_. I love _him_. I don’t even know you.”

“Chesh...” The other Roy, Red, whispers. He looks shocked and love struck and grateful. It’s like she’s never said she loves him before. Roy doesn’t get them. Roy doesn’t know how they met or where the nickname comes from. He doesn’t know anything about them. 

“You’re supposed to be my family.”

“Roy,” Red says quietly, “We are your family.”

He looks at his wife for confirmation and she nods. “I’m you’re sister-in-law,” Jade says. “Lian is your niece. Take it or get out.”

Lian reaches out to him. “Dadas.” She doesn’t call Red that, he realizes. Dadas is her special name for him. 

He pulls her into his lap and picks up his low mein. “I need chop sticks.”


	4. Bart Allen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bart becomes a son again, or something anyway.

Bart hates riding in cars; they’re painfully slow, especially on a day like today. But Joan can’t run to the hospital with them, so car it is. Bart’s practically vibrating out of his seat with nervous energy and he’s out the door in 1/16th of a second after Jay finds a parking spot. He forgets the room number, so he runs through the hospital twice until he finds the right room. It takes him 20 seconds longer than it aught to because he stops to help pick up the doctor he knocked over. 

When he finally finds them, Bart just stands there for minute, watching. Grandma Iris is lying in bed, looking exhausted but satisfied with a baby curled on each arm. Grandpa Barry is sitting on a chair next to the bed, oblivious to everything that isn’t the three of them. Bart made that possible. Bart changed the past and now Barry gets to raise his kids. How crash is that?

Bart turns as Jay’s hand comes down on his shoulder. “Is this a private party,” he asks, “Or can anyone join in?”

Barry pops up like a spring but Iris just smiles tiredly. Bart saw a woman give birth once; she had screamed the entire time. Having twins, even ones with superspeed, must be twice as bad. His grandma is one tough lady. 

Bart dashes to the bed while Jay congratulates Barry with a hardy handshake and slap on the back. “Hi Grandma.” Bart plants a kiss on her forehead before she even knows he’s there. 

“Hi Dad.” He strokes the reddish peach-fuzzy covering the blue-wrapped bundle’s head. “Hi Aunt Dawn,” he says runs around to the other side of the bed to do the same to her. It’s a good thing they hospital color codes them like that because he’d never be able to tell them apart. Right now they’re just half-finished blobs that might someday grow up to be people. 

“Is that what you’re calling her?” Joan asks. “Dawn?”

Iris nods, beaming down at her children. “I like it. It feels...hopeful.” The smile slips from her face. “I could use hopeful right now.” 

Hopeful is a good word. Aunt Dawn was hopeful and determined and brave. She and Dad had always believed they could save humanity. She took care of him after the Reach killed his parents. Dawn never gave up and she never let him give up either, not even after they got her too. He could feel pretty moded about it, but that won’t happen now. The Reach can’t hurt them anymore. 

“How about this one?” Jay asks, gently lifting the boy from Iris’s arm. 

“We have some ideas, but-” Barry hesitates, shooting Bart a concerned look. “Bart, what did you say your dad’s name was?”

Bart hasn’t said and he thinks about it for 1/100th of a second before he decides he’s not going to. The baby in Jay’s arms is going to grow up to have red hair, fast feet and an even faster mouth. He’s Bart’s father genetically, but he’ll grow up on a world with his dad and no evil alien overlords. This boy will never be mentored by his cousin Wally, he’ll never learn how to vibrate through a standard inhibitor collar and he might not ever even meet Bart's mom. Maybe he’d never grow up be Bart’s dad at all. 

Bart takes a deep breath and lets Donald Allen go. He’s been dead for years anyway. “What do you want his name to be?” 

“Wally,” Iris firmly like she’s daring them to object. 

“Wallace Donald,” Barry adds, laying his hand on her shoulder. 

Bart looks down at the boy who will never be his father. All roads are open to him, to both of them really, and they can run them as fast as they’d like. “Wallace Donald Allen. Crash.”


End file.
